Ichigeki Hissatsu
by Kirishtu
Summary: Life is breathed back into dead flesh, and two souls find that the best promise life holds for them is each other. Title means 'one-hit kill'. A series of drabbles I wrote. Multiple pairings, all one-shots.
1. Chapter 1

Originally posted on aff 2006-12-08 - 2007-09-23

This story does contain some OOC-ness on Zabuza's part, but considering the trauma, it just might be justified.

I.

Loyalty is a fickle thing. It can be bought, forced, and teaching can ingrain it. It can be destroyed in a blink of an eye, and it can be regained in a lifetime. It can be demanded, asked for, and it can be forever lost to those who do not command it. Loyalty, like respect, depends on the kind of man who has come to understand loyalty is power. Such as it is for a ninja, one of jounin rank, especially. Any ninja is expected to be loyal to their village and their leader, as well as their comrades and those they interact with every day. Ninja are taught that loyalty saves them, saves lives, and they are taught that loyalty comes from trust.

Momochi Zabuza only trusted himself.

He only was loyal to himself.

He thought nothing of using others to his advantage, thought nothing of instilling loyalty to himself only and then destroying that bond by abandoning those tools when they were no longer needed. He thought nothing of destroying lives to attain his goal. Zabuza was a hard man, an enigma even to those who knew him, and he showed nothing toward anyone. No one had any way of knowing who this man was beneath those bandages that covered his face. No one was close to him, and he allowed no one close. His heart, some said, was as stone-like as his face. He was a killer, and a very good one at that. No one wanted to cross him, in fear of his or her own lives. He tolerated you, not the other way around. Zabuza was a very ambitious man, even if the ambitions were too much for any one man, let alone a small group, to succeed.

Zabuza had failed to attain his dream. He had been forced to run, forced to flee lest his own life be lost. But now, he was not alone. By his side walked a small boy, a child he had rescued from the snow-covered streets simply because he knew of the boy's strength. The boy, under his guidance, could become the perfect tool. But Zabuza hadn't counted on the child's loyalty. Haku was a saint compared to Zabuza. Haku only killed on orders, and spent his time playing with wild rabbits he brought back to the camp. Zabuza learned more about his charge as the boy grew, and he knew, one day, the boy would surpass him.

And that was when everything began to change.

Zabuza could feel it, every time he looked at Haku, every time he heard the boy's soft voice. His stony heart, the one he never wanted to have, was beginning to soften, and it was all because of Haku. The boy did his best to please Zabuza; even when he made a mistake he was always quick to correct himself. Zabuza had begun to care about Haku, and had begun to warm up to the small boy in an attempt to show at least a little bit of the humanity that was still left in him. He watched the boy grow up, and did his best to keep up with his charge. He knew Haku was growing stronger; he refused to believe he was growing weaker. They trained together, sparred with the intent to harm if not kill. Zabuza made sure Haku would be able to take care of himself if something happened and they were no longer together. He made sure Haku would be able to survive. He made sure Haku knew the meaning of loyalty.

He just hadn't expected Haku to take the meaning so far.

Zabuza knew he was going to die that day. No man could survive against Sharingan Kakashi, and if they did, it was probably pure dumb luck. He'd done enough to warrant death by those hands, and he'd made sure that Haku would not be nearby when his end came. Perhaps it was those self-preservation needs that made him want to keep Haku away, that need to go down like a warrior. Perhaps it was his own past, his own failures, which made him want to keep his success just that. He watched that glowing hand come toward him, aimed straight for his heart. He couldn't move with the dogs biting into his arms and legs, so he could only watch as that beautiful, dark-haired blur got between him and that hand, could only watch that crimson spurt and those bones shatter, that heart stop.

If Zabuza had been the type, he would have screamed in denial.

He took the opportunity Haku had given him and swung his sword, his heart aching at the thought he would have to cut Haku in half to kill Kakashi. Tears pricked his eyes when he missed, and he was thankful. Zabuza had promised himself he would never cry again, not after that horrible night, but tears made their ways down his face, soaking the bandages covering his face and neck. He finally pulled down those bandages, revealing his face to Kakashi and his brat genin, and he saw in Naruto's own tear-filled eyes that he wasn't the monster everyone believed him to be. The monster was Gato, that man who had hired Zabuza and Haku to stop this bridge, to stop progress. It was Gato who had forced Kakashi to steal Haku's life, and therefore Zabuza's reason to cooperate, to live. That kunai in his mouth was more than just a tool, borrowed from that little blonde kid and soon lost forever. It was a meaning, a stand, and now, the man who was known as the Demon of Hidden Mist proved why he was called that. He rushed that heavily armed crowed of bodyguards, arms useless, his body already half-dead from his earlier fight. He refused to die, even as pikes slammed into his body. He refused to die before Gato, and he had to make sure Gato was truly dead before he would allow himself to succumb to the eternal sleep.

Blood spurted against his face as he left bodies in his wake, a huge hot, red wave that erupted from torn arteries and killing wounds. Gato had been afraid, seeing that demon come at him, unstoppable and immortal. Zabuza slammed that kunai into the old man's chest and shoved him off the bridge, forcing him to fall a distance only a ninja could hope to survive with minimal injuries. He collapsed then, unable to move any longer, blood loss high and his body refusing to work any longer. He managed to crawl toward Haku, but in the end, Kakashi carried him, his last request to see Haku's face. Where Haku was now, Zabuza knew he could not follow. Kakashi had let him down beside Haku, beside his beautiful apprentice, and he touched the boy's face. So many things he wanted to say now, so many things left unsaid, undone. He felt the tears welling up, felt the cold touch of snowflakes on his skin, and felt the frozen touch of death beginning to take him. Zabuza died not as a monster, but as a man so desperately in love he finally understood what his teacher had told him about power.

He finally understood being a ninja wasn't only about power, but the heart as well.

Haku had his heart.

And had died with it.

Zabuza had died as he had been born, alone.

Zabuza rammed his hand up through the dirt, and clawed his way out of his grave, gasping for air and scrabbling for purchase on the grassy ground, unable to surmise how exactly he was alive. He'd felt it, felt death, and he'd gone to Hell. He rolled, lying on the spongy, wet grasses as he stared at the sky through the foliage of the canopy, hazel eyes half-closed. He was alive. He pushed himself over, to his knees and rotated his shoulders, looking toward the other grave beside his. He remembered now, remembered that voice at the gate to Hell, a voice he should've forgotten but couldn't. There was no way he could forget the voice of the only other person who cared for him. His sensei, his beautiful sensei, had been there to greet him, her stomach still cut open from her suicide, a grisly reminder of his failures. She had touched him, pleased he had grown into a fine young man. He wondered if she knew of his transgressions, and she only smiled. She told him she was giving up her chance of redemption for him to return to life. There was something he needed to do before he died, and Hell was no place for a man like him.

Zabuza began to dig, blood mixing with earth as he defiled his beloved companion's grave, determined to prove to himself Haku was truly dead. Doubts bit at his heart and his mind and more than once he had to bite into his lower lip to keep his determination. There was no room for failure now. He dug as quickly as he could, fingers finally touching something hard and cold, but even so, soft enough to be pliant. He dug faster, tears pricking his eyes again, forcing himself to keep calm in the face of disappointment. He wrapped his hand around a small wrist and pulled, pulling up that precious body. His other arm wrapped around small shoulders, and despite the pain in his own he pulled, rolling with Haku's corpse out of the grave and onto the ground.

He lay there, quietly gasping to hold back tears, and he rolled to lay Haku beneath him, staring at the boy's peaceful visage. With trembling hands, he touched the boy's neck, feeling for a pulse he knew not to exist. He touched the hole where Haku's heart should be, needed to be, and found only an empty cavity.

"Haku… I'm so sorry…"

Zabuza finally began to cry, half-covering Haku's broken body, making only as much noise as he dared. He whimpered into the boy's chest, and clung like a child to the body, unable to stop crying.

"I'm sorry, Haku," Zabuza whispered, brushing strands of dark hair away from Haku's face. "I'm so sorry… This is my fault. I should never have brought you into my world."

He pressed his lips to the corpse's and pulled back, struggling to his feet to place the boy back into his grave, pausing only to set him down again to fill in the hole he left in the dirt. No one should know he was still alive. No one needed to know differently. Zabuza touched Haku's face again, crying yet again as he smeared dirt on Haku's face.

"I should have t-told you before, Haku," Zabuza said quietly as he picked the boy's body up again. "I should have told you that I love you, Haku. I didn't understand until then, and I'm sorry. I should have treated you better. There are so many things I should have done… and now, they'll never be done, will they?"

He set Haku's body down into the grave and began to dribble dirt onto the corpse to cover it again. He could hardly see, his eyes filled with tears as he buried his beloved. He finally stopped, just before Haku's face was covered, staring down at the boy he loved.

"I would give anything to have you back, Haku." Zabuza said, crouching now by a filled grave, Haku's face imprinted on his memory. "I would do anything to have you back."

He touched the grave marker that was Haku's and rose, staring down at his beloved, and his belongings he no longer wanted.

"Good bye, my Haku." Zabuza whispered. "Good bye. I'm sorry I never told you I loved you. I'm sorry I didn't take you away. It was my dream, my ambition that got you killed. And now, now you'll never know how deep my love runs for you, if you can believe that."

Zabuza paused in turning away, letting a fresh wave of tears fall down his face, and he bowed his head, shoulders shaking.

"I failed you. I failed you as I failed my sensei. Haku, if only… if only I had been more aware, more… more loyal to you as you were to me, maybe…" He turned back to give one last look at the grave, a memory to join other horrible memories, and whimpered again. "I love you, Haku. I will live for you, and please, watch over me in Heaven. Perhaps I can redeem myself and meet you. Become my guardian angel, Haku, and don't let me stray."

Momochi Zabuza felt another little piece of his heart die again, hope smothered as he walked away, limping and hurting in spirit more so than body. He was alive, sent back from Hell by his sensei who had sacrificed her redemption for him. Her redemption was now his, and Zabuza still had no reason to keep living, except for a memory. A memory of a beautiful boy who had been nothing but loyal to Zabuza. He had nowhere to go; no village would take him in. No village who knew of him, anyway. But he was compelled to travel to Konoha, where perhaps, he could gain some sort of shelter, if not another life. Surely Kakashi would know something. Zabuza walked away from his past, leaving behind his love and hope, leaving behind something that could have been.

And as he struggled to control his emotions, Haku struggled to breathe. The boy clawed through the earth covering him, his chest on fire, able to taste salt on his lips and just faintly the scent of his beloved master. He clawed and dug, pulling himself from the grave he had been placed in only a few hours before by Zabuza, crawling out on his hands and knees, fighting for air as his chest continued to burn. He looked beside him at the other grave, eyes wide at the sign of disturbed earth, and gave a little cry of denial. He curled up a little, staring at the signs all around him. Zabuza had left, left without him. The burning in his chest finally stopped, but he didn't notice. It was too tight to notice any other pain, first from sadness, then from anger. He struggled to his feet, swaying for a moment, before moving to follow his sensei.

Haku had fought to return to the living, unable to stomach an existence without his beloved master. Haku had fought the promise of eternal peace and happiness, he had fought the false dream of his happy family, only wanting Zabuza. Zabuza had never looked upon him with contempt, had never looked upon him as a burden. He had only gazed upon him with need, and Haku understood that he was needed for more than just a pupil, even if Zabuza hadn't known himself. He had died to protect Zabuza, to protect his beloved, and had he known Zabuza would die to be with him, he never would have sacrificed his life. He knew how fast he was; he could have gotten over to Zabuza and gotten him away before the Chidori connected to anything vital. He could have saved them both. Instead… Haku shook his head and kept moving. Zabuza was already hours ahead of him, and he refused to give up before he could knock some sense into his master's head.

They were alive, and that was all that mattered. How much longer they remained alive, however, was as long as it took for someone to discover their existence. Everyone believed them to be dead and buried, but Zabuza was heading for Konoha. Haku wanted to scream out Zabuza's name, but his voice refused to get past that lump in his throat. That lump of hurt and betrayal. He had been nothing but loyal, and now, Zabuza was leaving him. Zabuza had never left him before, unless it had been for a mission. Haku rushed, pushing his body, needing to catch up to Zabuza. Night fell and Haku became as silent as death itself, stalking his prey through the thick forests of Hi no Kuni. Zabuza finally stopped, exhaustion felling him, and he curled up where he lay, shivering from cold and hunger, mind on nothing more than the boy he had left behind. Haku watched him from the tree branches, tempted to strike now while the man was weak, but he stopped at a whimper.

Zabuza never whimpered.

He dropped down to the ground below and moved closer. His eyes widened at what he heard, Zabuza's voice accented by tears and whimpers, the elder man crying as though he were a child. Haku crept a little closer, until he was near hovering over the broken man, watching and listening, terrified but what he saw. Zabuza's face was tear stained, his eyes closed tight and his shoulders shook with his muffled sobs. Haku reached out finally, not wanting to see his beloved master in any more pain. Zabuza jerked upright, hazel eyes wide as he stared at the boy he had left behind. Haku wanted to smile, he wanted to reassure Zabuza everything was okay now, but Zabuza never gave him a chance to speak, capturing the youth in a fierce hug, though the hold was gentle enough not to cause physical harm. Zabuza clung to Haku, face buried in his neck, huddling as he cried again.

"Zabuza-san, please, don't cry," Haku whispered, arms wrapped around the older man as if to protect him from whatever nightmare they were going to face.

"Haku… I'm so sorry,"

"I know, Zabuza-san. It's okay."

"It's not okay!" Zabuza jerked away, staring at the boy from arm's length, hazel wide as his body trembled. "You died and I could've protected you!"

"You did, Zabuza," Haku replied, enfolding the man in his embrace again. "You did. You avenged me, you destroyed that man, and now we're together."

"You should be in Heaven."

"Zabuza-san," Haku whispered, pushing the man's head back and sealing his lips over Zabuza's own. "You are my heaven."

Zabuza trembled a little bit, finally smiling, and Haku pressed closer, kissing him again, nibbling and worrying at the elder's lower lip to try and draw out his master's former personality. He was rewarded with a soft snarl, Zabuza returning the nibbles with a little more force, asserting his dominance over the boy. Haku let him have his way; he let Zabuza become the leader because he needed it. Haku understood, somehow, that this was something the elder needed to heal.

"I missed you so much Haku," Zabuza whispered in between bites to the boy's throat, hands delving beneath the kimono to get at the flesh beneath, fingers running over his heart, over the sensitive flesh that used to be just a hole, and now was just a scar to attest to the memory. He bit that scar, bruising his beloved pupil to make his claim, a promise never to abandon this youth to his own machinations ever again. Haku mewled, and arched against Zabuza's mouth.

"I sacrificed myself for you, Zabuza-san, for your dreams."

"My dreams are nothing if you are not by my side," Zabuza replied, using the boy's own kimono as a makeshift bed, lying the smaller down and kneeling in between his legs. He sealed his mouth over Haku's to keep him from speaking, a silent command, and let his hands drift down the boy's sides, hooking into the waistband of the smaller's pants, loosening them enough to be pulled off. Zabuza sat back then, drinking in the sight of his beloved, smiling a little as he moved back to push Haku's knees to his ears, folding the boy near in half.

Haku gasped and writhed as he felt himself invaded by a wet tongue, the muscle wriggling its way into his passage, tasting his insides and wetting him for something much larger. Haku bit his lip to muffle his sounds as a hand wrapped around his need, stroking the engorged flesh in time with the thrusts from Zabuza's tongue. It was torture, and Haku mewled when that wet muscle was finally removed, replaced by two digits, made wet by Haku's own seed, pushing deep into the boy's body as Zabuza unfolded him. Haku gasped, writhed, and moaned as he felt those digits moving inside of him, scissoring to stretch that tight muscle. Zabuza's mouth was against his own then, kissing him to distract from the pain, kissing down the pale column of his throat, nibbling on his collarbone as he thrust those fingers into the boy in imitation of an organ that begged for attention. Haku could do no more than writhe and cry out, arching clear off the fabric he lay on as something deep in his body was struck, sending jolts of pleasure up his spine.

"Z-Zabuza, please!"

"Please what, love?"

Haku nearly came from that little four-letter word, having never heard the elder utter such a thing to him before. He mewled, spreading his legs wider, arching his hips into the movement of the elder's fingers, brown eyes on Zabuza's own hazel, swallowing.

"I need you inside, Zabuza…"

"Inside of you?" Zabuza removed his fingers, licking them and purring, making Haku redden in almost shame. Zabuza smiled though, head tilting.

"There's the Haku I remember." He positioned himself then, pressing his own erection against Haku's stretched passage, pushing inside as Haku wrapped his legs around Zabuza's waist, pulling him close and pushing up to get the elder inside of him to the hilt.

"And there's the Zabuza I remember," Haku replied as Zabuza bit into his shoulder at the feel of the tightness around him, that pulsing heat around him, nearly milking him, nearly forcing him to come right there. But he didn't, forcing himself to pull back and thrust in, starting a rhythm that grew increasingly rough as Haku began to cry out for him, arching into the movement as he struck that something deep in Haku that made the boy scream and tighten, his passage nearly a vice now. Zabuza was panting, his hand between them and wrapping around Haku's own erection, stroking in time with his thrusts. Haku writhed, eyes closed as he moved beneath Zabuza, arching and gasping the more he tightened, until he finally screamed out his lover's name to the night, inner walls clamping down tight around Zabuza, squeezing. Hot white passion spilled out onto Zabuza's hand, as his own spilled into the boy's body, filling him. Zabuza caught himself before he collapsed onto Haku, and managed to pull out of him before rolling to his side. Haku mewled and yawned, rolling to curl up against the stronger body, Zabuza pulling what he could of their clothes over them to serve as a makeshift blanket.

"I love you, Zabuza," Haku whispered, head pillowed on Zabuza's shoulder, safe in the elder man's embrace.

"I love you, too, Haku. Sleep now. We have a long journey ahead of us."

"Yes, sir."

Zabuza listened to Haku's breathing evening out, and sighed, burying his face in the boy's hair. He smiled, the ache in his heart disappearing the longer he held onto his reason for living. As long as he had Haku, he would keep on living. Not for ambitions or desires of power, but for this beautiful, loyal boy.

For his Haku.

Zabuza slept peacefully, perhaps for the first time in his life.


	2. Chapter 2

Chrysanthemum

Family was supposed to protect you. It was supposed to be a word that created warmth and safety for those who were too weak and defenseless to protect themselves. Itachi had believed in his family for the longest time, especially when Sasuke had been born. He loved his little brother, protecting him and loving him when no one in their family cared for the youngest Uchiha boy. Then he'd had enough. He'd had enough of their father comparing Sasuke to him – couldn't he see that Sasuke was trying so hard? – and he'd had enough of their mother playing favourites between him and his little brother. He'd had enough of the adults staring at him like he carried some sort of plague simply because he'd found a way to activate the most powerful stage of the Sharingan, and though they knew he'd killed Shisui, they couldn't prove it. So they punished him in another way, depriving him of Sasuke, depriving him of his little brother, the only person in the world who saw him for who he was and not a tool. So they needed to be punished. Itachi had taken care of them, leaving the bodies where they lay, a path for those who would investigate come morning and find Sasuke curled in a ball against the wall, eyes wide in shock and fear. Itachi would have taken Sasuke with him; he would have cared for Sasuke. He knew though, that Sasuke's place was in Konoha, and Sasuke belonged there. The trials that were to come in the future were only going to serve as roadblocks to make Sasuke stronger.

In turn, Itachi kept his skills honed, kept practicing even before he knew what Akatsuki was, building up his chakra to be able to keep the Sharingan present at all times. It would take a severe toll on his body, he knew, but Itachi felt it was worth it. Even if he passed out after using too much chakra to defend himself against animals, other ninja, or even in simple training, it would be worth it in the end. It was worth it, because by the time Akatsuki realized he existed, he'd already been rescued by one of their members. Itachi had been delirious when Kisame pulled him from the river, half dead from exhaustion alone. He couldn't see the blue-skinned shark man as well as he wanted to, and he decided since his rescuer hadn't started molesting him, the man could live for a while. When Itachi was lucid enough to understand the man, introductions had been made and Itachi learned Kisame had the belief that he owned Itachi. Itachi had rectified that thought by giving Kisame a taste of his power and declaring that if Kisame owned him, then he owned Kisame because he was letting the man live. Kisame had laughed and patted Itachi on the head, treating the fourteen-year-old jounin like a child. Itachi had promptly caught Kisame's offending hand and twisted until bones grated and the shark-like man winced as he offered an apology. They became partners soon after, Kisame teaching the young Uchiha all he needed to know about Akatsuki and their job, along with the small odd jobs that the pairs sometimes undertook to keep currency flowing into the pockets of their leader.

Sometimes Itachi enjoyed the jobs, though by looking at his face one couldn't tell. Sometimes Itachi hated the jobs, and only Kisame could tell when he was angry. It took a lot to make Itachi angry, but there was no telling what could really set the Uchiha off without any warning. Which was why Kisame had kept their latest mission a secret from the volatile young man. Kisame didn't enjoy pulling the wool over Itachi's eyes, considering those eyes could destroy him with a blink. The leader of Akatsuki had given Kisame the scroll containing their orders and left it to Kisame to inform his smaller partner of their mission parameters, a job which Kisame didn't enjoy. He knew Itachi wouldn't hurt him too badly; after all, he was Itachi's protection when the young man could no longer use the Sharingan. But Itachi could still hurt him, could still make him regret existing. Kisame watched the young man over the flames of their campfire, wondering what Itachi was thinking about. The elder Uchiha was watching the flames, apparently thinking, or reminiscing, Kisame never knew. He dropped his gaze and sighed, his golden gaze sliding to his pocket where the scroll was settled. He needed to tell Itachi. But how?

"Ah… Itachi-san,"

Itachi's crimson gaze flicked up to Kisame's face, his head tilting just a little bit in answer to the spoken words. Kisame swallowed, reached inside his cloak, and removed the scroll, tossing it toward his smaller partner. Itachi caught the scroll even though his eyes never left Kisame, that sanguine gaze finally dropping when he opened the scroll to read the flowing script that detailed the mission the two were supposed to complete. Kisame felt good when Itachi merely tossed the scroll onto their campfire, but realized it was only the calm before the storm.

Itachi refused to talk to him for the better part of their four weeks of travel into the Land of Honey, and Kisame settled for the glares and cold shoulder as a more preferable punishment than death, or worse, the Tsukuyomi. He didn't particularly care for the nights spent shivering by a small campfire, as usually when they didn't want to risk detection Itachi and Kisame would share body heat, but Kisame figured staying alive was better than being strangled to death by skinny hands. Itachi could do it too, Kisame knew, some ingenious plan would allow Itachi to kill him in his sleep and blame it on hunter nin. It irked Kisame a bit, but as Kisame was the brute strength and Itachi the brains, he let everything slide.

"Kisame,"

Kisame looked up at Itachi for the first time in four weeks, surprised that Itachi was deigning to speak with him now. He stood up and moved over to the smaller man, joining him in watching the village below wake with the morning sun. Itachi tilted his head at the larger man, watching his partner who didn't dare meet his eyes. Finally, Kisame's golden gaze turned to Itachi's, their eyes meeting for a brief moment. Since Kisame didn't fall over writhing in pain, he figured Itachi had forgiven him. Sort of.

"Our target is down there," Itachi said.

Kisame only nodded, watching Itachi move down the hillside toward the village. The older nukenin followed his partner, stopping just outside the village. Itachi turned to look at the shark-like man when he realized Kisame was no longer following him. Kisame only gave him a toothy grin at the narrow stare of the Sharingan eyes and felt his nervousness return. Itachi stared for a few more moments before finally returning to Kisame's side, demanding an explanation.

"He borrowed money from Akatsuki," Kisame clarified. "He'd know us."

Itachi's eyes narrowed as his gaze dropped to the village. Chasing a target that wasn't a biju was just problematic, and it gave Itachi a horrible headache. The smaller nukenin sighed and finally looked up at his partner, knowing he was going to regret saying anything. Itachi didn't bother to say anything after all, raising an eyebrow at his partner for Kisame began to grin in a way that gave Itachi a reason to worry.

"Hey-! Kisame-! Put me down-!" Itachi ordered once the taller – and much stronger – man picked him up and tossed him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Itachi swore then and there to pulverize Kisame's mind with Tsukuyomi.

"We need to get close to him," Kisame said cheerfully. Itachi glared and kept struggling, "So we're going to play dress up."

"Get your hand off my a-!"

"As I was saying," Kisame dumped Itachi unceremoniously to the ground, "we need to disguise you."

Itachi glared up at his partner, Tsukuyomi a very real threat when his supposed friend procured a kimono for him to change into. Kisame only tilted his head and accepted the threat, stiffening when Itachi snatched the kimono from his hands to inspect it. Itachi certainly wasn't having any fun; in fact, he was going to first murder their target and then Kisame.

"This is a woman's kimono," Itachi said dryly, gaze inching up Kisame's face. He hated the smug look the Kiri nukenin wore and considered killing the man first. Kisame moved first and put his hand over Itachi's eyes, effectively cutting off retaliation. Itachi snarled softly and reluctantly let the Sharingan fade. When Kisame pulled his hand away, Itachi kicked him in the groin.

"That was uncalled for!" Kisame rasped out, glaring at his young partner.

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it?"

"It's not my idea." Kisame replied, trying to fight back pain. He was glad Itachi held back, for it he kicked any harder there would have been real damage done.

"Oh, well then." Itachi said snidely. Kisame glared at him and got a glare in return, Sharingan powered. "Why don't you quit pussyfooting around and tell me why the –hell– I have to dress as a woman!"

Kisame snarled but he couldn't defeat Itachi's cold silence. Like Kisame wanted to alienate his friend. Itachi said nothing, waiting for the pale skinned man to speak. Finally, Kisame looked away from that bloody-red gaze and heaved a sigh.

"All right. The point is the bastard's so paranoid that he won't let anyone near him. So if we strolled in announcing we're part of Akatsuki, he'd run."

"What makes you think he won't run when I approach him?"

"Don't use the Sharingan and he won't run," Kisame said. Itachi raised an eyebrow at him.

"How do you expect me to see?"

"You can pretend to be blind. I know you can see shadows at least. Just get close enough to kill the guy and make it look natural."

Itachi narrowed his eyes at the elder man and finally shook his head. "Why weren't these instructions in the scroll?"

"Because I'm making them up right now." Kisame dodged the swipe of the kunai and grabbed Itachi's arms, pinning the smaller body against his own. Kisame shook his head when Itachi stopped struggling, glaring at the elder's shadow.

"Look, just –trust– me, okay?" Kisame said. "You've been awfully emotional lately."

Itachi said nothing. He only relaxed and Kisame released him. Kisame couldn't understand the sudden change in the normally stoic Uchiha, and he wondered if it had to do with Itachi's refusal to work without the Sharingan. Those eyes were both a blessing and a curse, giving Itachi the upper hand in most fights and being a serious detriment to his chakra. He was so dependent on those eyes that it seemed almost cruel to deprive him of them.

"Tell you what," Kisame said finally. "Just go without the Sharingan for the time it takes you to kill the guy and I'll buy you dango every time we stop in a restaurant."

Itachi looked over at the elder and finally shook his head. "Bribery. Oh, how the mighty have fallen."

Kisame only sighed, watching Itachi almost tiredly. The smaller man looked away and sighed. He held the kimono out to study it, flicking red onto yellow and studying Kisame as he studied the kimono.

"All right, I'll do it. Just… turn around."

Kisame nodded and presented his back to Itachi to allow the smaller man his privacy. Itachi slowly stripped, not enjoying a moment of it, slipping into the kimono with a practiced grace. He tied the obi as tight as he could before he allowed Kisame to turn around to look at him. Kisame had to work hard to control his facial expression at seeing Itachi so vulnerable, so open as he was despite most of him being covered by a soft, sky blue kimono. Kisame moved closer to his smaller partner and reached to untie his hair, letting the soft black strands make a curtain around Itachi's face, fingers smoothing back his hair to hook it behind his ears.

"There." Kisame said with a small smile, watching Itachi's face and pretending for the Uchiha's sake he didn't see the blush that was threatening to take over his cheeks.

"Shall we get this over with?" Itachi asked. "I don't want to be dressed like this longer than I have to."

Kisame only nodded and took Itachi's arm, leading him to the outskirts of the village, moving with him into the village and hiding behind the wall of one home, glancing around the corner to look at the populace. He didn't see the target, but he knew Itachi would find him.

"All right. Coast is clear. I won't be far if you need help, but take care anyway." Kisame said, knowing Itachi wouldn't heed him anyway. The Uchiha only nodded and straightened his kimono, smoothing back his hair, not quite nervously fidgeting with it.

"I'll be fine. Just be nearby."

"I'll be in the shadows, Itachi-san."

The Uchiha only nodded and left the safety of the wall and Kisame, walking with feigned confidence into the open. It wasn't that he was afraid – Uchiha Itachi rarely was anymore – he just wasn't sure if he could function without the Sharingan. He was doing just fine, so he thought, moving carefully around people who were shopping and working, never drawing attention to himself. He could sense Kisame somewhere, but the Kiri nukenin was very good at hiding. Itachi just kept moving, just kept looking for their target, wanting to end it all and get rid of the man so he could just go home and never be reminded of pretending to be a woman again.

Itachi watched the change in scenery as he moved through the village, watching the homes become shabbier and more desolate. It wasn't a place he'd enjoy moving through if he wasn't on a mission, but he supposed their target would choose such a place just for that reason. He paused for a moment when the people around him moved to the side of the road, wondering what was happening. He followed, curious, and he could feel Kisame moving to a vantage point to cover Itachi's back just in case. A cart rolled through, drawn by an old mule, a tarp thrown over a pile of… something. Itachi studied it as those around him did, catching whispers and whimpers. The wheel of the cart hit a rock, bouncing the cargo enough to loosen the tarp. A pale, thin arm slid out from under the barrier, flopping against the wood as the dead are wont to do.

It made Itachi sick.

After the cart passed beyond anyone's vision, life began again as though bodies hadn't passed through a moment ago. Itachi hated it, but he moved on, stilling when he saw the target. There was only one small problem.

"A girl," Kisame whispered in Itachi's ear, confirming what Itachi's eyes told him. A girl, no more than ten years, stood beside their target, clutching onto his hand and beaming up at him in a way only a daughter could.

"This complicates things." Itachi replied. He watched the father and daughter's interaction, the girl happily clinging to her father's hand, bouncing and jumping as little girls did. Itachi had no remorse for killing the father, as he was the target after all, but the girl. The girl pulled at the heartstrings he so desperately tried to hide and deny.

"I could just go up and break his neck."

"It has to look natural, Itachi-san," Kisame replied. Itachi snorted and continued to watch their target and his daughter.

"It's going to be complicated."

"I know."

Itachi hummed a little bit before sighing softly. He shifted, leaving the safety Kisame provided to walk closer to the pair, studying and observing. The man clearly adored the girl, taking his time as she wanted to see everything. She never let go of his hand, eyes wide and intelligent. Yes, it was certainly complicated now. Itachi followed them as long as he could, watching his target, waiting for an opportunity. It seemed futile, fruitless, and then some god smiled upon the Akatsuki nin when the little girl tripped over her own two feet. The man jerked her up with much more force than necessary, the little girl giving a whimpering cry and staring at her father with teary eyes. Itachi studied what he could see and fell back before he jumped the bastard and beat him to death with his bare hands. Itachi stepped into an alley and felt Kisame's arms come around him.

It felt nice.

"What did you see?"

"Bodies. Bodies and the culmination of a malicious mind."

"That doesn't make any sense Itachi-san."

Itachi didn't grace Kisame with an answer; just tilting his head back and giving the taller a short glare was enough. Kisame let his partner go and followed Itachi as he moved down the street, catching sight of their target again. Itachi could move quickly when he wanted to and caught up with the target quick enough to be stealthy. The girl was crying still, though her sobs were quiet, and the man paid her no heed. It was grating on Itachi's nerves, reminded of his own childhood and his little brother's, his mind blanking to anything else. Kisame pulled him into another alley before their target saw Itachi, both watching the man disappear into a shack quite removed from the rest of the village. Itachi didn't bother to struggle against Kisame as the shark-like man was much stronger physically. Itachi should've struggled, for Kisame lifted him up and settled Itachi against his waist, holding him against the wall in a lover-like fashion. Kisame pressed his head against Itachi's neck, teeth against pale flesh. He needn't have bothered with the primal command for silence, as Itachi stilled the moment his legs were forced around Kisame's hips.

"Itachi-san, you need to calm down."

Itachi's eyes centered on Kisame's own, watching his partner suspiciously. "Now isn't the time, Kisame."

"I think now is the perfect time. We know where he lives now."

"Kisame, don't make me kill you."

Kisame dropped his partner and Itachi deigned not to mention the fact that he rather enjoyed being pinned like that. Kisame didn't need to know where Itachi's feelings lay. They stood in silence, watching the house their target was in until nightfall. Itachi moved then, pulling off his kimono as he went. Kisame shouldn't have held his breath. Itachi –would– wear his black nin outfit beneath his kimono. Itachi slipped into the house with ease, nose wrinkling at the rank smells of chemicals and body odor. He saw the little girl asleep on what must've been the bed, more just a pile of straw with a ratty blanket thrown over it. Their target was pouring over some sort of lab, Itachi staring at him and wondering if he knew death was near. Itachi could almost overlap his own family in this scene, wondering what his parents thought when they saw him drop soundlessly from the rafters, radiating death. The target whirled at the sound of a kunai being drawn, Itachi's weapon held out toward his throat.

"You yell, I'll kill you." Itachi said. "You move, I'll kill you."

"You're going to kill me anyway."

"Yes, but I want to enjoy it." Itachi moved forward, placing himself between the man and the girl, his eyes bleeding back into the comfortable red of the Sharingan. He watched the man tense, watched him try to shift. Itachi didn't give him a chance, kunai burying into the man's thighs and shoulders, bringing him down. Itachi glanced once to the girl on the bed and then to the man, moving to crouch before him.

"I didn't understand before why Akatsuki would lend money to a rat like you, but now I do." Itachi reached to wrap his hand around the man's throat, squeezing gently to keep the target from screaming. "You're sick."

"You Akatsuki are just as sick," the man rasped out, "taking power from those who are defenseless."

"Just as you do."

"Kill me and she'll die."

Itachi paused, an eyebrow raising. He looked over at the girl, studying her for a few tense moments before he turned that hateful Sharingan gaze back onto the man he was choking. Itachi said nothing, eyes narrowing as he drew upon the Sharingan's powers, the man starting to writhe a bit as Tsukuyomi took hold, Itachi letting the man go to retrieve his kunai. He watched the target writhe in the hell of his mind, moving away from the man to examine the little girl. Her chest was slowly rising and falling, proving she was asleep and not dead. But how long did she have to live? Itachi was no stranger to death, no innocent when it came to killing children. ANBU did all sorts of missions that no normal ninja would do, mostly for the sake of their fragile sanities. It was a moment where his conscience got in the way of duty, watching the girl and the dying man. She wouldn't survive long at all without someone to feed her. Itachi could see that she was close to death anyway. What should he do? He watched the man give one last jolt before he finally expired, his body slack and motionless. With a kunai in hand, Itachi moved to make sure the man was truly dead, though not that many people survived a full onslaught from Tsukuyomi anyway. A quick jab to the trachea crushed any hope of revival, and Itachi turned his attention back to the girl.

It was best to kill her quickly, part of his mind told him. Another part tried to convince him to let the girl live and take her away from here, let someone back home raise her. The logical side of him glanced over at the laboratory set up and took in the chemicals and the syringes and examined the girl's arms and other parts of her body that had access to important veins. Track marks ran over her arms, little pocks in pale skin made by needles, the skin vaguely discoloured where the marks were freshest.

Itachi's eyes closed as if in denial, though it was more to prevent the Sharingan from digging deep, seeing how far into the skin those needles went, traces of fluid still clinging to the microscopic wound, the poisonous blue betraying the liquid's nature. This girl wasn't just a ruse; she was a lab rat, used to test the effects of this… monstrosity on the human body.

Considering how many marks were covering her, the girl wouldn't survive withdrawal beyond a few days. The kunai was drawn across the girl's throat as quickly as possible to spare her pain, his hand on her forehead to keep her from thrashing as she died. It was simple after that to stage the scene, the kunai set in the man's fisted hand, a little blood sprinkled here and there to make it look convincing, and Itachi was leaving, bolting from the home as controlled as he could back into the forest. Kisame was quick to catch up and when he offered Itachi's cloak, the smaller man pushed him away to give in to a moment of weakness and expel his stomach contents into the bushes.

"Itachi-san?" Kisame questioned, hands moving to pull Itachi's hair back, holding the dark strands away from his face. Itachi wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and pulled up, Kisame watching his face. Itachi couldn't quite meet his eyes, but Kisame knew all the same.

"Want to forget, Itachi-san?" Kisame asked, caressing Itachi's face with his fingertips, stroking his cheek. Itachi stared at his partner for a long while, head tilting.

"I forget that I'm still human, sometimes." Itachi replied, head tilting into those soft touches.

"It's a hard trait to kill."

"She was a child, Kisame. I've killed plenty before her, all on missions like this, but…"

"It hurts." Kisame cupped Itachi's chin in his hand and tilted his head up. "Children are children, Itachi-san. Innocent until they have that stripped away from them. You wouldn't have killed her if you didn't need to. I know that, you know that."

Kisame shifted, pressing his mouth against Itachi's. "It's okay to be human, Itachi-san. You can be human in front of me if you don't want anyone else to know."

Itachi closed his eyes as Kisame bent for another kiss, tilting his head to change the angle and press a little closer to the stronger body. Kisame took the moment to lift Itachi off his feet and into his arms, cradling the younger man as he walked deeper into the woods. Itachi just let himself be carried, trying to rationalize his actions and lock the memories away in the deepest recesses of his mind. He didn't have to think about it after a moment, when Kisame's teeth sank into his neck, crimson welling up and sliding down to pool against his clavicle, a soft hiss escaping Itachi. Kisame pulled Itachi against him, lifting him and pressing him against a tree trunk, forcing Itachi's legs apart and shifting between them, rubbing against Itachi's crotch. Itachi hissed again, arching against Kisame when the older man's mouth conquered his, teeth and tongues pressed together in a vicious play for dominance, blood flowing along with saliva between their mouths as Kisame moved roughly against Itachi, forcing him to react.

Kisame's free hand snaked up beneath Itachi's shirt, caressing pale skin as his hand explored his partner's body, fingers running over Itachi's nipples, pinching and pulling to force them erect, Itachi arching into those hands as he let out a soft cry. Kisame thought it cute; for all the strength and abrasiveness Itachi had, he was awfully quiet when making sounds of pleasure. Itachi gasped when he felt Kisame's growing erection against his own body, reddening slightly as Kisame chuckled, biting Itachi's throat again, pulling back only to force Itachi out of his shirt, revealing lightly scarred skin to his eyes.

"You're beautiful, Itachi-san," Kisame whispered to Itachi's ear, biting the shell until there was a dark bruise on the pale flesh. Itachi gave a snort and purposely shifted to cause the most friction against Kisame's aching erection. The shark-like nin hissed, hand moving down to open Itachi's pants and slip inside, wrapping his hand around Itachi's length, stroking as Itachi arched against him, fighting not to whimper. Kisame chuckled and made it a personal challenge to try and get Itachi to scream before they were through. He held Itachi against the tree with his body as his hands slid down to Itachi's pants, pulling them down to his ankles, fumbling with one sandal, dropping it to the ground as he pulled at one pant leg, forcing the material off his partner's body. The pants hung awkwardly now, still on Itachi's body only by one ankle, providing absolutely no protection for Itachi.

The Uchiha arched as Kisame's mouth bit into his shoulder, drawing more blood, his own mouth open but lacking sound. Kisame growled a little bit, nipping and bruising Itachi's neck, chest, and shoulders as he stroked his lover's need. Kisame didn't bother preparing Itachi; they were running out of time and amenities could be given when they stopped at an inn. The shark-like nin pressed his erection against Itachi's entrance and let gravity do the rest, impaling Itachi against the tree. A rough rhythm started then, Kisame thrusting up and letting gravity bring Itachi down on him, scraping Itachi's back nearly raw with the roughness. Kisame wanted to hear some kind of sound from Itachi, some sound of pleasure or even pain. He thrust hard into Itachi each and every time Itachi came down on him, fighting to ignore how tight Itachi was, how much tighter he was getting.

Kisame distinctly heard a sharp whimper on a particularly hard thrust and felt Itachi's lacquered nails bite into his shoulders. He thrust harder and finally got Itachi to whimper oh so quietly with each thrust, driving Kisame to want to hear him scream. He didn't get a chance to, Itachi's body locking around Kisame as hot seed became sticky white ribbons on Kisame's hand and Itachi's abdomen. Kisame hissed as Itachi's inner muscles squeezed his penis, biting yet again into Itachi's shoulder as he bathed the smaller man's insides with his own seed.

Itachi slumped against Kisame, panting as the Kiri nukenin let him down, both hissing as Kisame withdrew from Itachi's body. Gingerly Itachi dressed as Kisame draped his Akatsuki cloak over his shoulders. Itachi pulled it closed around his body, looking at Kisame as the older man hefted Samehada, the sword discarded to the side at the start of their activity. Their eyes met and they stared at each other for a long while. Kisame finally draped an arm around Itachi's shoulders and pulled him close, head tilting to take one last kiss before they started to walk.

"Let's go home, Kisame." Itachi whispered, still pressed close to the older man in declaration of the words he couldn't say. Kisame hugged him tighter in reply.

"Let's go home, Itachi-san," Kisame repeated, keeping an arm around Itachi's shoulders, a silent declaration that he would be Itachi's shield. Itachi accepted Kisame's offer with one last loving kiss.


	3. Chapter 3

Spring Dragon Roll

The cherry blossoms were in full bloom that spring. Sakura had been washing bed sheets for the hospital when Lee approached her, giving her reason to question him when he walked up in a manner not like him. He was nervous, blushing, hands twisting in front of him as Sakura studied him.

"Lee?" Sakura asked, head tilting.

"Ah, yes! Sakura-chan, would you like to have dinner tonight? With me, of course."

Lee was trying so hard not to make a bad impression. Sakura could see that. She turned away so the young man couldn't see her blush and worked more furiously on the sheets.

"I'd love to, Lee, but I'm really busy. Some other time." Sakura said, lying her ass right off. It wasn't that she didn't like Lee – she did – she just didn't like him in the same way he liked her. Sakura was still waiting for Sasuke, her affections toward Naruto had changed, and now she was at an impasse. She heard Lee shuffle his feet and sigh.

"All right." Lee replied. "Some other time."

Sakura tried to tell herself she wasn't cruel when Lee vanished with only a soft breeze passing in his wake. Sakura gathered the washed sheets to hang them to dry and returned to the hospital to fold the sheets she'd washed earlier. When her duties were finished, she had plenty of time on her hands to practice what Tsunade had given her before she searched out the Godaime for her lessons. Her mind, then, after her lessons, was on Rock Lee and his offer.

She needed to talk to someone. Her chosen victim was one Hyuuga Hinata, the girl just leaving the Academy with her arms full of books. Sakura moved over to her and offered help and ended up carrying half the books back to the Hyuuga mansion. The books were set in Hinata's room before Sakura was led to the kitchen, Hinata offering tea.

"I don't know what to do, Hinata," Sakura said, her fingers wrapping around the porcelain of the teacup.

"About what, Sakura-chan?" Hinata asked, setting down the tray of teacups and the teapot on the table before sitting down herself.

"Lee. I mean, I like him, but I don't like, like him you know?" Sakura sipped her tea, "I love Sasuke, and I think I love Naruto, so,"

Hinata smiled, cupping her chin in her hands. "I'm not sure you should ask me about love, Sakura-chan."

"You're the only one I can trust!"

Hinata smiled a bit, her head tilting as she looked down at the tea in her cup. "I'm flattered, Sakura-chan, really, but I'm not the one you should ask about love. The one you should ask is yourself."

"What?"

"You need to ask yourself who it is you really love. You say you love Naruto-kun and Sasuke-kun and that you like Lee-kun, but you don't know." Hinata lifted her teacup for a tiny sip and winced a bit, blowing on the hot liquid to cool it. Blow. Sip. Blow. Sip. Finally she set the cup down and rose, moving over to Sakura to set her hand on her shoulder. "You need to ask your heart what it wants, Sakura-chan. Sasuke-kun is gone, that's a wound we all feel. Naruto-kun is here, but he hardly pays any attention to you now, right? So who's left? And really, it's not like Lee-kun's going to propose to you."

"He's done so before." Sakura said, pouting a little bit.

"What makes you so sure he will now?" Hinata replied. "And it's just a date, Sakura-chan. What's the harm in that?"

Sakura stared after the dark-haired girl as she was led from the kitchen after a few moments of silence, released back onto the streets of Konoha with her mind full of questions and her heart sore. She knew everyone missed Sasuke. His personality was abrasive, true, and still he had left a gaping wound in his place ever since his defection, a wound that everyone was fighting to heal by getting him back. She had loved Sasuke with all her heart and would have done anything to be with him. But as soon as Sasuke had gone, she'd turned her attention to Naruto. She'd always liked Naruto, even if she abused him every day just for being an idiot. She'd begun to love him, as much as she loved Sasuke. Naruto, though, hardly looked at her with the puppy dog eyes and the lovesick gaze anymore. He was solely focused on getting Sasuke back.

Her eyes went wide in realization then and her hand went to her mouth as her tears stung her eyes. She had to lean against the wall to steady herself as she fought not to sob like a baby.

She hadn't seen it before, had she? She'd been too focused on Sasuke to see that Naruto had liked her, but he'd only done it to gauge Sasuke's reaction. And the moment Sasuke had defected Naruto had led the charge to get him back and was still fighting to do so. Naruto had never loved her; his heart had been set on Sasuke and so he had been vying with her for Sasuke's attention. Attention that Sasuke had returned, but she'd always seen that affection as for her.

Sakura made it to her house somehow, to her room to lock herself inside and cry into her pillow. She'd given her heart to Sasuke and he had refused it, and so she had turned to Naruto, but he had refused it as well. She dried her tears, fighting to rationalize it all. She'd seen the clues for what they were, after all, so it was her fault she'd ignored it and had continued to flit around between three boys that she liked. When one had gone, she had changed her attentions, and always ignored the one boy who had always stood beside her.

When Sasuke had left and Naruto had gone away, Lee had been there, maybe not by her side, but he had been there for her. He claimed constantly that he loved her, out loud and in person, every chance he got. But from Sasuke and Naruto, nothing. Maybe Naruto had proclaimed that he liked her once or twice, but Sasuke had never said anything. Sakura took a deep breath and settled back against the wall of her room, staring out the window. She felt like a fool, spending the last few years pining over a boy who wouldn't come back nor a boy that wouldn't give her the time of day anymore when she had someone who would love her no matter what she did.

She remembered Hinata's words. Her speech.

"Ask myself, huh?" Sakura whispered to the nothingness of her bedroom. "I loved Sasuke. I like Naruto and I like Lee."

Sakura gave a little shriek and tugged at her hair. This wasn't helping! She jumped off her bed and moved to the bathroom, washing her face free of the evidence of tears. It didn't seem like enough, to ask herself what she wanted. She wanted to talk to someone, to ask them what she should do. She left her house yet again for the afternoon, wandering the streets and trying to figure out what she wanted. She had no idea. The rose-haired girl looked up at a shout then and saw Iruka running after Kakashi, the silver-haired jounin's eye turned up in a grin as he stayed one step ahead of the poor chuunin. Iruka's hair was unbound and free, and for once, he wasn't wearing his vest. Sakura was rooted to her place as she watched the two horse around before her, before Kakashi noticed she was there and skidded to a stop before her, leaving Iruka to crash into him, a Kakashi-wall that stood his ground to keep Sakura from being crushed by about 295 collective pounds of jounin and chuunin.

"Sakura-chan!" Iruka gasped out in his best out-of-breath admonishing voice. Sakura smiled sheepishly, having heard that voice before when she was much smaller. Kakashi stepped back and put an arm around Iruka's shoulders to steady him. Sakura fought to keep her surprise off her face, but at the smile that bloomed on Kakashi's hidden face and the blush on Iruka's they knew she'd just figured it out.

Sakura put her hands on her hips and tried for her best angry look, the look that had cowed Naruto and had even made Sasuke a little edgy of her. But she couldn't hold it for long, not with Iruka watching her. Instead she flung her arms around the chuunin's waist and held on tight to him, eyes squeezed shut.

"Sakura-chan, what's the matter?" Iruka asked, hugging her back and giving an apologetic look to Kakashi. The silver haired jounin put a hand on his former student's shoulder, head tilting to look at the girl.

"Sakura-chan?" Kakashi repeated.

"I don't know what to do, Iruka-sensei!" Sakura wailed into the chuunin's shirt. "I don't know what to do at all."

Iruka and Kakashi managed to pull Sakura away from the chuunin and together the three of them moved down the street to the park, Kakashi settling the chuunin and Sakura down on a bench before he went to go find some vending machine that gave something cold to drink. Iruka hooked his hair behind his ears and looked at the girl, sighing quietly.

"What's the matter, Sakura? What don't you know?"

"First of all," Sakura said, "how long have you and Kaka-sensei been going out, huh?"

Iruka blushed and smiled, rubbing his cheek. "A few months after your chuunin exams. But your problems hardly concern me or Kakashi or our relationship, do they?"

Sakura felt her cheeks heat and shook her head. She looked up when a cold can of apple juice was handed to her, Kakashi moving to settle beside Iruka, both he and the chuunin holding their own can of a cold juice drink. They sat in silence for a long while before Sakura finally sighed, a heavy sort of dejected sigh.

"Lee asked me to have dinner with him, but…"

"But?" Iruka asked, head tilting as he looked at the girl. Sakura pursed her lips and sighed again, rubbing the condensation on the can away with her fingers.

"I don't know if I should." Sakura said. "I mean… I loved Sasuke… and Naruto, but they… They didn't want me."

"It's not that they didn't want you, Sakura," Kakashi replied as he put an arm around Iruka's shoulders, hugging him close. "It's that they had found their precious person in each other."

"There's no doubt that you're still very important to both of them," Iruka began. "But they see you as a friend, Sakura, not as a potential lover. Everyone has their precious person, someone they love unconditionally, no matter what they do, or what happens. You may not find them right away, or maybe you will. Maybe you won't recognize it right away, but, you don't know until you spend time with that person."

"Like you and Kakashi?" Sakura said a little smugly, watching the elder pair glance at each other and then look back at her.

"Maybe not." Iruka said. "Kakashi and I grew up on different levels and the only things we had in common was that we taught you three. At times, it seemed like it would never work out, but we made it through. You'll have to do the same."

Kakashi pulled Iruka up then, the brunette tapping his chest to push him away, smiling as he tilted his head, turning back to Sakura with a smile. Kakashi stepped away by a few paces, nose in that stupid book of his but his attention on Iruka, Sakura noticed, her eyes falling away from her former sensei to her former, former sensei, watching as Iruka knelt down in front of her, taking her hands in his.

"Sakura, you have many friends, and you have someone who really does love you, like you've said. You've said the two people you love the most don't return your feelings, so maybe instead of pining for the past, live for the future."

Iruka rose then, patting her hands as he released them, moving toward Kakashi and taking hold of his hand as he forced the silver haired jounin to put away his book, the pair walking away, leaving Sakura alone to her thoughts. She rose a moment later, slowly walking home, her mind turning. She lay in bed that night, arms crossed over her stomach, eyes staring at her ceiling until she closed them to the dark, falling asleep with her mind going a mile a minute. She woke feeling uneasy, but she was sure the uneasiness was only due to the way her heart trembled with her decision. Sakura took a quick shower and dressed as soon as she was dry, fixing her hitai-ate in her hair as usual before she slipped on her sandals and moved to leave her house to get started on her daily chores.

The uneasiness didn't fade away until mid-afternoon, when she was just finishing up her tasks for the day, giving a heartfelt sigh to dissipate the feeling. She hadn't seen Lee all day, not even a glimpse of him. She wondered if he'd gone off on a mission and was almost tempted to go to the mission office to find out for sure. She folded the last sheet and set it in the closet, closing the door and walking slowly down the hall to clock out of the hospital and head home. She felt almost dejected and supposed this was how Lee felt the other day when she rejected his offer of dinner. She rubbed the back of her neck as she stood outside, looking up at the cloudless sky for a long while before she began to walk home, wishing Ino was around so she could just hang out with her. But Ino wasn't around, off on a mission with Shikamaru and Choji, and so Sakura felt very alone and foolish. A heavy sigh escaped her then and she realized she was standing outside her home, hand on the door. She slid it open and walked up the stairs to the landing, her eyes going wide at the sight of her mother and Lee sitting at the kitchen table, talking so easily over tea.

"Mom?" Sakura ventured, coming to stand just outside of the kitchen, staring more at Lee than her mother. Haruno-san rose from her seat, taking her daughter by her shoulder and leading her out of earshot from Lee, leaving Sakura very confused.

"Sakura, Lee-kun just wanted to talk to you. I told him that you were at the hospital but he wanted to stay and wait for you."

Sakura looked over at Lee from around her mother and fought back the blush that wanted to come and burn her cheeks. She looked at her mother then, smiling and leaning to give the elder woman a peck on the cheek.

"Thanks for keeping him company, mom. I think I can handle it from here."

Sakura stepped around her mother and approached Lee, knowing her mom wouldn't be far but she wouldn't be able to be seen. Sakura knelt across from Lee and put her chin in her hands, watching the black-haired boy as he watched her. They were silent for the longest while before Sakura shifted and smiled at Lee.

"So…"

Lee jerked a bit, blushing as he finally looked away from her, looking back only after he'd gotten his blush under control. "So?"

"You're here for a reason right?"

"Uh, yeah." Lee fumbled for a moment, trying to look Sakura in the eye and failing. "I just… wanted to see if you'd like to go out tonight. For dinner. Maybe a movie?"

Sakura swallowed, leaned over the table and put her fingers under Lee's chin, forcing him to look at her. She sat back then, properly, hands in her lap, eyes locked onto the boy's.

"Ask me again. And look me in the eyes this time."

Lee was silent, swallowing the nervous lump in his throat and stared right into Sakura's pretty eyes. He could feel the sweat rolling down his forehead but he knew there wasn't any. He was being stupid, a nervous wreck. What's the worst that could happen? Sakura could only say no.

"Ah, Sakura-chan?"

"Yes, Lee-kun?"

She called him Lee-kun! Maybe he had a chance after all! "Would you like to go out tonight, with me, for dinner and maybe a movie?"

Sakura smiled at him, really smiled at –him– . "I'd love to, Lee."


	4. Chapter 4

Hello, Dolly

"Why don't you like it Sasori-danna?"

"We're not going through this again, Deidara."

Deidara's lips turned upside-down into a frown – or was it a smile? – Sasori didn't want to look up to see what it really was, not when Deidara was splayed so provocatively on the couch, on his back with his legs over the top cushions and his head angled off the bottom cushions so that his hair pooled on the floor. Sasori was a master of self-control, at least he thought so; being able to ignore Deidara this long was a feat in and of itself. Sasori finally looked up from the doll face he was scratching out of the soft wood to look at the blonde, his partner, his lover, his housemate. His dried-blood red eyes centered on the blonde's own, the pair staring at each other until Sasori looked away, dropping his attention back to the doll in his hands.

"Sasori-danna, tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Why don't you like it? I worked real hard on it."

"I know you did."

"So then why don't you like it?"

Deidara shifted, rolling his body so he could rise off the couch, moving over to Sasori and taking the forming doll from his hands, forcing the redhead to stare at him and him alone, leaving the doll-maker no choice but to answer the question instead of avoid it. Sasori's eyes narrowed a little bit until he could only give a sigh, turning to look at the blonde that had taken up a position behind him. There were many answers he could give Deidara why he didn't like the blonde's most recent art piece, a statue that didn't last long at all, given when Sasori had mentioned he hadn't liked it, Deidara had thrown it across the room. Sasori was thankful that Umi and Akashi had been out of the house since nine that morning. He wasn't even sure if he would've been able to explain why he was pulling clay shards out of the hardwood floor to the two children anyhow.

"Sasori-danna," Deidara said again, leaning closer to the redhead, grinning that horrible grin that worried Sasori even more, "why didn't you like it? I made it for you."

"And I appreciate that. But, Deidara, it wasn't even finished."

"Yes it was."

"It exploded when you threw it against the wall."

"Oh."

Sasori sighed and reached for his captive doll, but the blonde held it out of his reach. He knew he'd pissed off the blonde, horribly too. Judging by the look in Deidara's eyes, Sasori wouldn't escape this one. Not this time. Sasori had never backed down from a challenge set by the blonde, not even when they had been in the Akatsuki together, but this challenge he felt he was going to lose. Deidara's lips curled into a grinning snarl and Sasori knew he'd walked right into the trap.

"Will you explode if I throw you against the wall?"

"No." Sasori whispered. "I'd break, and then where would you be?"

"You wouldn't break. You're not that careless with yourself."

- But you're careless with what I've done for you. – The words were unspoken, but Sasori could hear them anyway. They had forever been at odds with one another over their views of art. Deidara's was fleeting while Sasori's lasted forever. Everything Sasori created was done with painstaking care with the hope that it would last for years to come. He treated his family much the same way, his adopted daughter and his son by birth. But Deidara didn't need to be treated so carefully, since he was strong and able to take care of himself. Umi and Akashi were still just children.

"I've been careless."

"Not to the extent you've been recently."

"Just because I said I didn't like it?"

"I made it for –you–."

Sasori sighed, quietly, defeatedly. "And what would you have me say?"

"That you liked it."

"But that would be a lie."

"So!?" Deidara raged, grabbing at Sasori's shoulders and hauling him up, not an easy feat of itself, considering the weight of the redhead's false body. The blonde stilled, though, for a moment, having felt the weight before and comparing it to now. He blinked, staring at the redhead that was his partner.

"You're lighter."

"New materials." Sasori whispered. "I transferred myself last night."

"Is that why you said you didn't like it?" Deidara asked, feeling foolish. He'd never actually seen Sasori transfer himself from one body to another, not in the first few days anyway. Deidara had always believed Sasori had stayed away because his new body was so fragile before he could strengthen the synthetic flesh from inside. Sasori would have been tired. Would have barely given it a glance before he said a word. Deidara leaned in, pressing his lips to Sasori's. There was a softness there that he hadn't felt before each time he kissed him, a warmth that had been devoid in the redhead's skin.

"You…" Deidara breathed. No wonder he had said he didn't like the statue! He could feel it, truly feel it, the weight of the clay, the imperfections, everything. Deidara shivered in pleasure. He pulled Sasori closer and savoured the warmth coming from the elder man.

"You changed for me…?"

"You wouldn't want to sleep beside a cold doll, would you?"

"If it was you, Sasori-danna, I'd sleep beside a corpse."

Sasori's lips drew into a thin line, but Deidara's grew into a grin. The blonde hugged his lover close and tight, lifting the lighter body up and into the air as he spun around, reveling in the warmth and the knowledge that Sasori could feel, that he could really –feel– and that he didn't have to act anymore and-

Deidara grinned widely.

Sasori's eyes narrowed.

The blonde gave a whoop before he picked up the redhead, tossing him over his shoulder like a sack much to Sasori's protest, feeling those wonderfully warm fists pound against his back until he smacked Sasori's ass, earning a yelp. Deidara knew Sasori was glaring holes into the floor, since he couldn't turn his head enough to glare holes into Deidara's back. Another smack to earn another yelp and another just to revel in the fact he was –spanking– Sasori without retribution at least until Sasori made a sound that Deidara took to be a snarl. That sound meant he was pushing it, that Sasori would make his life a living hell the moment he could move freely. So he stopped, settled for rubbing the abused globes that made up Sasori's butt and listened to the snarl change to a mewl when he managed to slip his free hand beneath the waistband of Sasori's pants to squeeze wonderfully warm skin.

He tossed Sasori onto their bed after groping for a few more moments and took the moment to savour the view. The false blood Sasori had crafted had made his cheeks turn pink with an embarrassed blush, his eyes bright with lust and love, his chest rising and falling with even breath as he watched Deidara stare at him. The blonde moved then, the bed dipping as he climbed on, hovering over Sasori before he bent his head to claim the first kiss. He nearly lost control, feeling the warmth of Sasori beneath him, the softness of his new skin. Sasori was beautiful, absolutely beautiful, false skin flushed with false blood and he looked so real that Deidara decided he didn't care whether the whole of his lover was just fake parts and synthetics, he just wanted to worship that warmth, that warmth Sasori had worked hard to create for him, for Deidara.

His fingers slid along the soft flesh beneath Sasori's clothes and listened to Sasori's soft sounds of pleasure. He twitched Sasori's clothes off, wanting to see just how far the changes actually went.

"God, you're beautiful, Sasori-danna," Deidara breathed against Sasori's hips, letting his hair tickle smooth thighs as his hands wrapped around hot and hardening flesh, eyes bright as he watched Sasori arch and mutter to deny the claim. Deidara chuckled as he shifted, drawing back to watch Sasori watch his hand as he stroked Sasori's cock, watching it come to life beneath his hands. He wanted so much to make Sasori beg for attention, but he knew Sasori wouldn't, right? His lips curled into a devious smile as he shifted, putting his hands beneath Sasori's thighs and pushing his knees up to his ears, baring a beautiful prize.

"Deidara…"

There it was, the beginning. Deidara didn't reply, at least verbally, bending his head to lap at that wonderful prize with the intent to make Sasori beg as much as he could make him beg. The muscles beneath his hands twitched, soft breath leaving the body beneath him as Deidara wriggled his tongue into Sasori's passage, tasting what flesh he could, wetting what he couldn't. He chuckled as Sasori's body fought to get him out, humming as he pressed further in, hearing a quiet yelp followed by an almost content mewl. But Sasori wasn't satisfied, Deidara knew, not by a long shot. The redhead squirmed as Deidara drew back, licking his lips like a satisfied cat after lapping at a bowl of whipped cream. The blonde wasn't finished with Sasori though, intending to treat him as a precious piece of art, which Sasori was, in an odd sort of way. He nibbled at Sasori's inner thigh, thinking of all the ways he could pleasure his danna, staring at the redhead as he made soft bruises on the pale flesh.

"…Deidara… Just… please."

-That- got his attention. Deidara grinned, pulling away from Sasori's flesh and leaning over him, head tilting to the side.

"What did you say?"

Sasori blushed. Deidara grinned wider. "Tell me, Sasori-danna, or I'll stop."

Sasori muttered something under his breath and looked away from Deidara, completely torn between giving in and repeating himself and finishing what Deidara began with his own hand. Knowing Deidara wouldn't let him go without hearing the words – and even if he did, Sasori knew Deidara would listen at the door for the sounds of Sasori finishing himself or for begging noises for Deidara to return – Sasori resolved to just give in. He wanted it, wanted Deidara to just pound him into the sheets, to give him what he gave Deidara almost every night when they could get away with it.

"…Please…"

Deidara grinned like a madman, bending his head down to bite at Sasori's neck, whispering against his skin. Sasori made an annoyed, exasperated noise, his fist blocked by Deidara's open palm and then pinned to the bed, his other wrist similarly grabbed and pinned for good measure.

"Be a good boy and I won't tie you up," Deidara purred, rubbing his still clothed – Sasori bared his teeth in a snarl – body against Sasori's vulnerable, and very sensitive, body parts. Deidara drew back then to give Sasori quite the strip tease and watched the redhead's eyes trace the lines of the body he knew so well and loved so much. Still, Deidara watched the redhead's eyes begin to glaze over, pushing his luck right up until the final moment when those beautiful dried blood gemstones became chips of dull red glass, and only then he moved to give his danna what he wanted.

He put his hands on Sasori's thighs and pushed his legs once again up, pushed his knees up to his ears and positioned himself. Deidara wondered if he should give Sasori the same courtesy of preparation that the redhead gave him, but Sasori just shifted, taking the head of Deidara's erection within him before the little burst of energy gave out.

"Just put it in, Deidara, please." Sasori whispered, staring at his lover almost pleadingly. "Please."

Deidara smiled, bent a bit to nuzzle the redhead and nip at his ear before he repositioned himself, took a breath and pushed in. Deidara gasped, eyes going wide at the feel of the redhead around him, hot and tight and oh my god, was –this– how –he– felt around Sasori? Their lovemaking schedule would have to change, because now Deidara wanted in on being on top if it was this amazing every time. Sasori arched as Deidara impaled him, his eyes closing so very slowly as he reveled in the feel of the blonde inside him. His lips parted to let out a whimper-like sound and Deidara shifted his hips, pushing even deeper into Sasori.

The redhead whimpered again, the blonde taking the hint and starting to move, at first very slow, drawing things out and reveling in the feelings. And then Sasori began to tighten, his lips parting to make soft little noises that Deidara would never admit openly that they were cute and sexy because he wanted to have more of this wonderful experience, more chances to have Sasori beneath him and begging even though he would never admit that he was. Another sound was drawn from the redhead when Deidara slammed into him rather viciously, this one of ultimate pleasure and Deidara knew he'd hit the redhead's prostate, even if the thing was just a bundle of highly sensitive chakra threads imitating the said organ.

"Deidara," Sasori gasped out, "–Please–!"

Deidara reveled in that moment, folding Sasori in half and slamming into him with all the strength he could muster, capturing the redhead's mouth to silence those wonderful noises that Sasori was making just for him, just for them, just for this moment. They were moving together, hard, and Deidara knew Sasori would be bleeding that false blood when they were through, but this was so worth it.

Sasori's breath hitched suddenly, his body arching and tensing, his inner walls clamping down on Deidara's throbbing erection. Deidara cried out despite himself and felt his release upon him, combined with Sasori's tightness. He felt his seed filling the empty spaces deeper within Sasori than where he could reach without sharp and incredibly harsh movements that would both hurt and piss off Sasori to the point Deidara wouldn't be able to walk for months. They collapsed as one onto the bed and rode out the post-orgasm high clutching to one another for a long while after the sexual glow had subsided. Deidara shifted, withdrawing his softened member from Sasori's body as he rolled to the side, shifting after a moment to slip his arms around his lover and pulled him close. They lay beside one another, Sasori curled up against Deidara's side, held close by strong arms, panting softly.

Then Deidara began to snicker.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, you're a doll, right?"

"Don't say it."

"That makes you my sex doll~!" Deidara cackled as Sasori glared at him, before those sultry lips curled into a pout. Deidara sobered up at that, realizing Sasori was very good at pouting. Deidara frowned. He was learning from their son. He knew it.

"Come on, Sasori-danna, it was just a joke. I won't say it again. Don't give me that look. Akashi gives me that look. Don't give me that one either, Umi does that. Sasori!"

The redhead giggled softly. Deidara blinked, surprised, before giving a smile of his own to complement the redhead's mirth. He hugged the slighter man closer to his body, offering protection and sacrifice in that one movement. When Sasori returned the hug, Deidara felt the acceptance of his offer. He also felt Sasori's grip tighten around him as he rubbed his face against the blonde's chest, making his own offer, so Deidara pet those soft red strands to soothe his lover to get him to relax.

"Sasori-danna?"

"…Hm?"

"I love you."

"Love you too, Deidara."

The words were a soft caress to the blonde, so he let himself relax and listened to Sasori's breathing even out, felt the man fall asleep beside him. Deidara watched his beloved danna for a long while, settled beside him. He finally put his head back down on the pillows and closed his eyes, hugging Sasori as close as he could before he too fell asleep, satisfied not just physically, but emotionally as well. He had Sasori. He had his family. He had all he wanted.


	5. Chapter 5

Raspberry

The Land of Snow was in the middle of spring when they arrived. Kimimaru was happy about that, Orochimaru noticed. He was pleased, then, in his choice of a vacation spot and the time they had left. Of course, the springtime meant lots of new life, life that he would no longer have to deal with, considering he had stepped down as Yunkage. Poor Nidaime, Orochimaru thought with a grin, better get used to ibuprofen. Not that the new Yunkage would need it, but headaches tended to come frequently as the head of a village.

The pair arrived at the inn about midday and Orochimaru took one cursory glance at the lobby, lips curling into a bit of a snarl. Kimimaru elbowed his ribs. He fell silent and followed the smaller man to the front desk to sign in.

The reason Orochimaru had begun to snarl was that the men and women who were standing in the lobby were staring at them; the men in particular staring at Kimimaru. The women were scornful, no doubt jealous of Kimimaru's natural beauty. And as he was wearing a pink, blossom-patterned kimono Haku had picked out for him, Kimimaru looked very much like a woman. Most of the time, no one could tell the difference until Kimimaru got serious and removed one sleeve of his kimono to bare his chest.

Still, to stake a claim, Orochimaru put an arm around Kimimaru's shoulders and grinned predatorily at those who thought to take him away.

That earned him another elbow to the ribs.

"I'm fully capable of protecting myself, Orochimaru-sama," Kimimaru said dryly once they were alone in their room. The snake-like man only gave him a venomous stare before sighing in mock defeat.

"I know." Orochimaru replied, moving over to his lover and taking hold of his shoulders. "Still, indulge an old man his whims."

Kimimaru blinked and tilted his head back to look at the older man, forest green confused.

"Did you just call yourself old, Orochimaru-sama?"

"Did I?"

Kimimaru sighed. "You're impossible."

"I thought you knew that already." Orochimaru said as he rubbed the muscles in Kimimaru's shoulders. The white-haired boy – well, he –was– a man now, but he would always be a boy in Orochimaru's eyes – left out a soft sound of pleasure and closed his eyes.

A lifetime ago, Orochimaru would have taken advantage of the situation, would have used Kimimaru and left the boy in bed. Now, though, he appreciated the younger man so much more, loved him as he'd never loved another. Kimimaru was important to him, not just as a lover, but a partner, as someone who understood him. And Kimimaru understood him so much better than Kabuto.

He stopped his motions and settled his head on a pink-covered shoulder, arms around Kimimaru's waist, enjoying the silence. He could even make Kimimaru pant now, a fact he'd avoided since Kimimaru had gotten sick.

"You're thinking about me and the bed with me in it, aren't you?"

"Am I that transparent?"

"No." Kimimaru paused. "Sometimes I can guess what you're thinking. Sometimes I know. As for this, you're poking my spine, and it's not your fingers."

Orochimaru laughed. He had to. Leave it to Kimimaru to use the most round about way to point out an erection. In fact, Orochimaru couldn't even remember hearing Kimimaru curse. Well, he grinned, it was time to remedy that.

"Want to take care of it for me?"

Kimimaru opened his eyes to stare at his master for a while before shrugging. The gesture made Orochimaru smile, because he knew that Kimimaru would do anything he commanded him to. Well, it –was– supposed to be a vacation…

An idea dawned on Orochimaru.

It would embarrass the hell out of Kimimaru, but it would be worth it and the nights of enjoying the company of his hand wouldn't be so bad if he had the memory of Kimimaru's face to jerk off to.

"Let's go to the hot springs," Orochimaru purred. Kimimaru turned his head to stare at him, searching for a reason to refuse. Orochimaru kept his face nicely stoic, as serious as he could keep it so his pale lover wouldn't figure out his true intention for suggesting the hot springs. Kimimaru finally smiled and shook his head, sighing.

"All right. Let's go."

Orochimaru grinned at Kimimaru's back as the paler moved to get the robes that waited for them in the closet of their room, pulling off the pink kimono to pull on the fluffy white bathrobe. Orochimaru followed suit after taking his sweet time staring at Kimimaru's ass, thinking of all the possible ways to violate the poor creature. He shook his head to free himself of those fantasies, deciding he'd better be happy with what he was going to get in the hot spring baths, provided that no one else was in the bath. Kimimaru would kill him for sure if someone were there. If no one were there in the hot water, then the chance of being caught certainly would heighten the pleasure. He pulled on his robe and followed Kimimaru from their room to the hot spring bath, moving into the separate bath on the men's side, separated from the women's only by a wooden wall. Kimimaru shifted to pick up the wooden bucket with the bath supplies and wandered to the side of the hot spring hidden by a wall and waterfall. Orochimaru unconsciously licked his lips and followed, grinning as he watched Kimimaru wrap a towel around his waist before climbing into the steaming water. Orochimaru dropped his robe on the tile beside the bath and climbed in stark naked, immensely pleased by Kimimaru's blush.

Even after the many times that Kimimaru had seen him naked, often aroused, the bone-manipulator would still blush like he was a virgin. Orochimaru smiled at the thought and leaned against the ceramic wall. He felt Kimimaru move over to his side and lean against him, giving Orochimaru the opportunity to lay his arm around Kimimaru's shoulders. The paler sighed, snuggling closer as he closed his eyes, and he made an annoyed noise as Orochimaru teased the towel away from his waist, taking away his modesty. One crimson-lined eye cracked open to stare at the elder man, a protest set on his lips, but the towel was held up and away, tossed onto the tile as Orochimaru sealed his mouth over Kimimaru's, delving inside and tasting the boy's mouth. He pulled back after a moment and grinned.

"Mints?"

Kimimaru scowled. "What's wrong with mints?"

"Nothing." Orochimaru replied with a smirk. "Didn't take you for a mint person."

"Shows what you know," Kimimaru said snarkily. Orochimaru laughed quietly and stroked Kimimaru's shoulder, holding him closer in the warm water. Kimimaru settled again, head against Orochimaru's shoulder. The two sat in silence for a little while, before Orochimaru's hand slipped from Kimimaru's shoulder beneath the water, pinching at the paler's hips before he began to stroke the white-haired man's penis. Kimimaru hissed and tried to move away, but Orochimaru moved to pin him against the tile, smiling down at Kimimaru's scandalized face.

"What's the matter, Kimimaru-kun?" Orochimaru whispered as he wrapped his fingers around Kimimaru's growing erection. The paler man hissed, legs spreading involuntarily as Orochimaru pressed between them, mouth latching onto the smaller's neck. Kimimaru's mouth opened in a soft moan, showing Orochimaru just how much he wanted a little bit more of the attention Orochimaru could provide for him. Kimimaru's hands found Orochimaru's shoulders and tightened a hold, lacquered nails biting into pale skin as Orochimaru began to stroke his need, his other hand slipping between his legs to rub against the hidden pucker. Kimimaru's head fell back as he let out a little moan, his emerald eyes glaring at the former Sannin even as they clouded over with lust.

Orochimaru could only chuckle, laving Kimimaru's skin with kisses, teasing everything he could to make his little bone-manipulator writhe and moan, making him shiver in pleasure. Kimimaru's head fell back as he cried out for him at the first push of a finger into his body, the water providing lubrication. It wasn't like Kimimaru needed it, but Orochimaru liked to oblige him, liked to watch him writhe on his fingers while he coated the boy's insides with whatever was available. He wondered then, for a moment, if the Nidaime had found the drawer yet. He snickered at the imagined look on his successor's face and bit at Kimimaru's shoulders, hissing as nails dragged down and up his back. Kimimaru's legs had come up out of the water now, his body half curled beneath Orochimaru as the elder pushed his fingers in deeper, his head bowed toward his chest as he made noises of pleasure.

The former Sannin made a nice bruise on his lover's shoulder, thrusting into the willing body with his finger, pulling the digit out to have it joined by a second, then a third, scissoring his fingers to stretch his pale lover, pulling him up against him to reveal the curse seal on his chest, bruising the skin it marred, thrusting his three digits harder into Kimimaru. He was panting, whimpering out pleasure, and Orochimaru pulled his fingers from his beloved, turning them so Kimimaru was in his lap, positioned over the former Sannin's own need, and pulled the younger man down, sheathing himself within Kimimaru's body.

Kimimaru moaned as he wrapped his arms around Orochimaru's neck, forehead set against his shoulder as he began to move, pushing himself up and letting gravity do the rest, riding his lover though rippling water hid their actions. Orochimaru's hand wrapped around his erection, stroking as they moved together. Or rather, as Kimimaru moved and Orochimaru just sat there. Still, Orochimaru felt release coming upon him as Kimimaru's noises got to him, along with the heat of the water, the heat of Kimimaru, and the fact he could hear approaching footsteps, whispering to Kimimaru how beautiful he was, how hot he was, how tight, and he could hear Kimimaru's breathing pick up, his heartbeat get faster, and he knew release was almost upon his pale lover. Then he remembered he wanted to hear Kimimaru curse.

He rolled them, pressing Kimimaru's back against the edge of the pool, thrusting hard into him as his hand left Kimimaru's erection to his hips, pulling Kimimaru into his thrusts to make them harder, biting his shoulder. Kimimaru's muscles were tightening around him, pulsing with impending release and Orochimaru drew back, lips brushing Kimimaru's ear, nibbling at the shell before he began whispering horribly cruel, erotic things into the pale appendage, making Kimimaru gasp more, whimper and whisper. He picked up the intensity, listening to Kimimaru gasp as a mix of pain and pleasure shot up his spine, and then, then –

"Oh… oh d-damn… Orochimaru-sama, please!"

Orochimaru shivered with pleasure. It wasn't as bad a curse as he'd wanted but he'd take what he could get. He thrust into Kimimaru until the boy was calling out for him, the water between them heating up even more as the white-haired boy hit his release, seed making little swirls in the steaming water. Orochimaru hissed as pulsing muscles squeezed his erection, his own passion spilling into the pale bone-manipulator's body. Kimimaru clung to Orochimaru as they rode out the sexual high, panting quietly and mewling as Orochimaru pulled out of his beloved's body, settling to his side and stretching out, golden eyes flicking to the doorway of the hot springs as several men filed in. He felt a hot emerald glare on him and wisely ignored Kimimaru's gaze as he moved to get out of the water, followed by an irate bone-manipulator. Kimimaru didn't speak to him, not even as they dressed and wandered together back to their room, nor did he speak to Orochimaru as they crawled into bed with one another. Orochimaru lay in bed stiffly, because though he was still pleased with the turn of events from the bath, he hated when Kimimaru was upset with him. And he knew his beautiful lover didn't like being turned into a spectacle to hiding voyeurs, so he pretty much had earned the silence.

By the time a few hours of lying side by side and saying nothing went crawling by, Kimimaru finally relented and rolled into Orochimaru's waiting hold and snuggled against his bare chest. His leg crossed Orochimaru's thigh to hold him tight to the elder's body, a sigh escaping him as he settled to go back to sleep. Orochimaru closed his eyes, comfortable holding his beloved.

Then the kisses started. Gentle and teasing and then Orochimaru screamed as breath was forced against his skin, vibrating with sound and air and spit. Kimimaru rolled away, giggling as Orochimaru sat up, staring at him scandalized.

"What in the name of hell was –that–?" Orochimaru growled as he grabbed Kimimaru and held him close to his body, nails pricking pale skin. Kimimaru could only giggle.

"That's what you get, Orochimaru-sama. It's a raspberry."

"Where did you learn that?"

"Kyou-kun and Sei-kun. Umi-chan apparently got the idea from Akashi-kun and she tried it out on her teammates."

Of course. Orochimaru scowled. The kids would give his partner the strangest going-away present ever.

"Stop pouting, Orochimaru-sama," Kimimaru whispered. "You'll get wrinkles."

"Will not." But he stopped pouting and settled back down with Kimimaru against him. He felt Kimimaru lick the violated area in apology and settle against him, heaving one sigh and falling asleep against him. Orochimaru pet the white strands away from Kimimaru's face and let out a long yawn. Tomorrow, he'd take Kimimaru out to dinner. And maybe Kimimaru would blow something else in return. Grinning at that highly inappropriate thought, Orochimaru closed his eyes. And cried out again as another raspberry was blown against his stomach, before Kimimaru finally apologized and settled to really sleep, leaving the elder man grumbling before he finally relaxed, eyes closing.

He smiled after a moment, though, knowing there was nowhere else he'd rather be than at the side of his beloved, day after day.


	6. Chapter 6

Brother, Oh, Brother.

Gozu had been a bundle of nerves the moment he discovered Meizu was pregnant. He'd never imagined he'd have a family beyond Meizu, Haku, and Zabuza, nor had he imagined he'd be a father. He was scared shitless when he fount out Meizu was pregnant with his own child. His –brother– for god's sake. How would the child turn out? Would it be deformed? Sickly? Too many questions and too few answers. Not even Kimimaru, who was the best and most formidable medic nin in Kinugakure could tell him. They would have to wait and see and Gozu prayed to every god he knew not to hurt Meizu or their child, but to hurt him instead because he'd caused this. As the months progressed, both Zabuza and Meizu became increasingly moody and sensitive as their stomachs became rounder and Gozu watched his beloved little brother like a hawk. The ultrasounds proved that there were no deformities that could be seen on the fetus, but that did little to comfort Gozu. Even if the baby wasn't deformed, there was still the likely chance it was mentally handicapped or chronically sick. They would have to wait until the birth.

The moment Meizu went into labour at the hospital, Gozu was an emotional wreck. Haku – even Sasuke! – tried to calm him and tell him everything would be okay. But Haku didn't have to worry about his lover and child making it through the delivery. Gozu must've bit every single one of his fingernails down to the quick that night because his fingertips hurt something fierce the next morning when Kimimaru allowed him in to see Meizu and their newborn. The younger Onikyoudai relaxed on a bunch of pillows, cradling a tiny form swaddled in a blue blanket. Gozu felt relief flood his body when he saw both were okay. His unspoken questions were answered with a shake or a nod of the head. Their son was perfectly healthy and sound of both body and mind. The only problem, they would discover later during the flu and chicken pox season, was that their little Akio was much more susceptible to the two diseases, though he got over them quicker than others his age.

Gozu still worried as Akio discovered his cousin Aoi and the two began to play. Only toddlers, they were both heavily trained by Haku and Zabuza simply because of their lineage. And the former Demon of the Hidden Mist needed to be sure that Aoi did or did not receive Haku's Kekkei Genkai. Thankfully, when Aoi's powers reacted to his fear one Halloween, Umi had proved the faster and dispelled the ice senbon before someone could get seriously hurt. Gozu's fear for his son sharpened considerably after that though Meizu told him to lighten up, that Kinu was perfectly safe for Akio and the other children to grow up and that they would be handled accordingly with their special abilities. At times, Gozu tried to see life from his son's perspective. Daddy was overprotective and Mommy was just protective like other mommies were. Gozu couldn't help but want to protect Akio, but Akio was a child of Kinugakure. He would learn to be a ninja whether Gozu liked it or not. Akio's first day – today, Gozu remembered with a frown – at the Academy in Kinu had been a double-edged sword. Gozu had been very proud that Akio placed in one of the higher classes with Aoi. The two would go far together, probably become partners as they went up in the ranks. However, as he watched Akio disappear into the building with the rest of the first graders, he wished that Akio had turned around and ran to him to latch onto his leg, beg to be taken home because he was scared. And Gozu would have too, would have told the boy it was okay and they could try again tomorrow. But Akio hadn't; instead he clung to Aoi's hand and followed his cousin into the Academy to begin their pre-genin lives. Gozu had walked home wondering if this was how his parents had felt watching him enter the Academy in Kirigakure. He doubted it.

He sat now at the kitchen table, alone in the quiet house since Haku was on duty with Kura-ou scouting and Zabuza was training with his genin team. He didn't know where Meizu was. Gozu wished he could spy on his son, but that would only serve to alienate his son from him. He knew he had to let Akio fly on his own; otherwise the boy would never learn to fend for himself. He would have to learn he could rely on allies through his teammates and the teachings of the elder ninja, but if he was coddled too much, he would never develop the ability to defend himself by himself.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Meizu's voice suddenly broke through his reminiscing, and he turned to face his brother. Meizu smiled a knowing smile then.

"Don't be so worried about him," Meizu said. "He'll be fine. Besides, he's only six years old."

"I know," Gozu replied, "But–"

"But nothing. He has years before he becomes a genin and there's no guarantee he'll make it on the first try."

Gozu didn't seem convinced. Meizu smiled.

"All right. Then let's take your mind off Akio and put it on to something else." The sharp interest in Meizu's eyes gave Gozu a pretty good idea of what his little brother wanted. The elder Onikyoudai let out a sigh.

"I'm not in the mood to fuck you, Meizu."

"Who ever said it was I that was going to get fucked?"

"What?"

Meizu grinned. He'd set out the trap and the bait and now all he had to do was wait for Gozu to take it. There was a long pause before Gozu finally nodded his head, apparently up for the game.

Hook, line, and sinker, thought Meizu as he hauled his brother to his feet and led him down the hallway of their shared house to their bedroom. The smaller of the pair shoved his brother onto the bed, making sure Gozu was perfectly balanced on his hands and knees before Meizu joined him, molding himself over his brother's back so that he could worm one hand beneath Gozu's shirt and the other down his pants. The moment Meizu's fingers touched Gozu's length, the elder Jerked – right back into Meizu's clothed erection. The gasp Meizu heard did bad things to his libido and furthered his resolve to hear his brother moan and cry out beneath him as Meizu took him. Meizu continued to fondle Gozu as the hand beneath his brother's shirt began to migrate over the flat, well-muscled planes of his stomach to his chest, pushing up mesh and cloth until Gozu was left with no choice but to take it off. The shirts sailed off the side of the bed to land on the floor and Meizu rewarded his brother with a few tweaks to his nipples as he worked to get Gozu's pants off him. It took a bit longer than Meizu would've liked, but it was worth the wait because Gozu was making those whimpery noises of utter pleasure and pre-come beaded at the tip of his erection.

Meizu made no secret that he admired his brother's body. Of course, he also admired the man – how many times had Gozu saved his stupid ass? – but Gozu's body, to Meizu, seemed to be perfection. His muscles were nicely toned, not too big or too small, and there wasn't an ounce of fat anywhere on him. Meizu purred as he coated his fingers in Gozu's pre-ejaculate, a sudden surge to his knees forcing Gozu onto his elbows and chest so his ass – and the prize – were right in Meizu's scheming face. The younger Onikyoudai's tongue swiped at that little pucker, easing the tip of his tongue past that tight little hole. Teasing of course, because he pulled his tongue away to replace the wet muscles with his coated fingers. Gozu bucked against him as he felt two digits push inside him, touching places that had never been invaded before.

"Easy Gozu," Meizu said with a laugh, "I won't hurt you."

"You may be used to this, but I'm not!" Gozu replied with a snarl, that snarl becoming a moan as Meizu began to thrust his fingers into that tight, hot passage scissoring those fingers to loosen protesting muscles.

"Relax, Gozu," Meizu purred, leaning over his brother's back, kissing his shoulder blades. Gozu only whimpered, toes curling as Meizu continued to slam his fingers into his body. Only when Gozu stopped trembling did Meizu pull his fingers from his body, flipping his brother onto his back so they could look into one another's eyes. Distracted, Gozu didn't feel the initial pressure and push, but when he felt Meizu breaching him, he tensed. The younger man shoved his way inside until he was buried in his brother up to the hilt, clutching to Gozu's shoulders, rubbing the tense muscles until the man relaxed enough to permit movement. Meizu thrust as gentle and as deep as he could into Gozu, drawing everything out just to keep his brother's mind off anything but what he was doing to him. Meizu hooked his arms under Gozu's knees to bend him in half, pounding him into the sheets. He kissed away tears of pain, whispering apologies and changing his angle until Gozu was crying in pleasure, inner walls pulsing tighter and tighter around Meizu's length, squeezing that hardened shafted to the point Meizu couldn't take anymore and keep holding back. He picked up his pace, slamming harder and harder into his brother until Gozu was screaming for him, muscles shaking as release swept over him, essence spurting out in little ribbons between them, making Gozu's abdomen a sticky mess.

Gozu gave two whimpering moans as Meizu thrust into him several more times before he came, bathing Gozu's insides with his seed, arms shaking as they supported his weight to keep him from collapsing on his brother. Slowly, Meizu pulled out of his brother, mewling quietly as Gozu's body gave up on its hold and he rolled to lay beside his brother, enfolding the elder man in his arms.

"I love you." Meizu whispered. "And so does Akio. No matter what you do, we'll always love you."

Gozu was silent for a while. Finally, he rubbed his face against Meizu's chest and sighed.

"I love you too. I can't… help… but –want– to protect both of you, him, especially."

"I know. But we can't keep him from doing what he wants to," Meizu said as he pet Gozu's head. The elder nodded slightly and closed his eyes, breath evening out as he fell asleep. When Meizu was sure the slightest movement or sound wouldn't wake his brother, he eased Gozu down onto the pillows, slipping off the bed, covering Gozu with the quilt on their bed. He watched his brother sleep for a while before he redressed and left the elder to sleep peacefully. He closed the door and walked quietly back to the kitchen to find something to eat while he waited for his son to come home or his brother to wake, whichever came first.

Hours later, the front door crashed open as Akio and Aoi burst in, chattering in excite voices before the door was slide shut and the two boys entered the kitchen, Akio hugging tight to his mother before he hurried after his cousin for food.

"Mom, you're not gonna believe what happened today!" Akio said excitedly as he juggled a bag of chips and two cans of peach tea as Aoi grinned from behind a small bag of cookies.

"Yeah? What happened?"

Akio opened his mouth and paused, head tilting. "Where's dad?"

"He's sleeping," Meizu replied, head canting as his son frowned.

"I'll wait then. I want Daddy to hear too, the first time. He looked like he was going to die. Or cry."

Akio followed Aoi to the den where the two set out their snacks, playing with the good items as though the cookies were shuriken and the cans were small exploding tags. Meizu smiled and shook his head, shouting for the boys to watch television like normal six-year-olds. Two little tongues were struck out at him and Meizu gave a happy sort of exasperated sigh. They wouldn't have to worry about Akio, Meizu thought, looking down the hall to the bedroom where Gozu slept still.

"He'll be fine," Meizu whispered. "He's a shinobi, though and through,"

Meizu moved into the den, sitting on the couch and closing his eyes for a moment. He felt Akio crawl onto his lap and wrapped his arms around his son. Shinobi or not, family took care of family, and Meizu knew Akio would survive Gozu's overprotection. After all, after a few over-blown stories of adventure, Gozu would become so exasperated he wouldn't care beyond a father's love for his child.


	7. Chapter 7

Survivor

She could still remember the way he felt, the way he smelled, and the way he tasted. Always of cigarettes and spice, strong and swift, determined but shy, especially around her. Kurenai stared at the picture frame in the little shrine, fighting not to cry for the hundredth millionth time. She remembered when they brought his body back, being in utter denial as she held her hands over her stomach, knowing in her heart all she had left of Asuma was the child growing in her womb. She should've felt grateful for Shikamaru's promise, but she didn't. The Nara boy had his own family to care for and wouldn't really have time for her. Because of her pregnancy, Kurenai had to remain in Konoha. She would watch and wait and sometimes Hinata or Kiba would come and keep her company. She enjoyed Kiba's visits most of all because he would bring the new puppies and let her cuddle them as he showed her what they could do. All of them, save for Akamaru, failed the scent-marking trick, but Kurenai could boast that the reason would-be thieves stayed away from her apartment was because of the smell of puppy pee.

Other jounin visited her too; Kakashi who came bearing presents from those who couldn't find time, Gai, even Tsunade. Kurenai couldn't find it in her heart to be miserable. Even if her child would never know is father, Kurenai knew he would know the best menagerie of aunts and uncles anyone could ever ask for. Though she still mourned for Asuma, and she never again loved another as much as she had him, she didn't become a complete recluse. She went out and partied with the other jounin, keeping away from alcohol or rough movement, avoiding chakra use unless it was direly needed. She went to maternity classes, usually accompanied by Iruka because she could bully Kakashi into begging the chuunin into escorting her or with Kotetsu or Izumo and on rare occasions, Shino. She managed regular ultrasounds and check-ups and babysat pre-genin on fieldtrips if only to get peace beside her chuunin-friend Iruka, he, out of all her friends, made her smile the most and made her feel safe. She told him once if Kakashi hadn't have made claim, she'd take him.

He'd blushed and spluttered at that.

Kakashi had then threatened her to stay away from Iruka because Iruka was –his– and –his– alone. Then he had come back and sheepishly apologized.

Kurenai spent more and more time with Iruka and Kakashi until her pregnancy entered the final stages and she hid away in her house, spending most of her time in front of the shrine, staring at the picture of Asuma, as she was now. She wanted him to be here to witness the birth of their baby, to hold her hand and to make fun of her during labour. Hell, she'd let him – film – everything! But he wasn't, buried with his name etched on the Memorial Stone. She finally began to cry, mourning her beloved all over again. When she calmed, rubbing her crimson eyes free of tears, she realized her thighs were wet. Then the first contraction ripped through her.

She grit her teeth and struggled to stand, hurrying to where Asuma had kept the summoning fuda, quickly scrawling Kakashi's name and sending it off. Iruka must have received the summon, because Kakashi appeared in a matter of seconds, took one look at her and bundled her up in a blanket before he lifted her in his arms bridal style and took her off for the hospital.  
Kurenai was grateful for having a friend like Iruka, who had obviously run to the hospital to have the staff ready for Kurenai. A number of people were there; Sakura, Tsunade, Shizune, Shikamaru. Kurenai didn't notice as contractions ripped through her body. She was whisked away, into the chaos of the delivery room, told to breathe and told to push, relaxing here and there only to do it all over again. It was hours, it seemed, before she heard tiny cries , a child announcing himself to the world. But it wasn't over, as another contraction reared its ugly head. Kurenai grit her teeth and pushed and more tiny cries reached her and it was over, only the afterbirth left and by then Kurenai was so numb she didn't feel a thing.

She napped as the doctors cleaned her up and cleaned her children before they were set in little bassinettes in the infant room and she was taken to a room down the hall. She slept for a while and woke up to find her room filled with the people who loved her. She sat up and smiled.

"I must look like a nightmare,"

Kakashi's lips twitched beneath this mask. "You always look like a nightmare."

Iruka elbowed him in the ribs. "A very pretty nightmare." The jounin corrected.

Kurenai smiled and spoke with the others who wanted to wish her well with her new family. When everyone left, except for Kakashi and Iruka and Shikamaru, the doctors brought in her children. She accepted them, two little bundles with downy tufts of dark hair. A son and a daughter. Her and Asuma's twins. Kurenai felt like she was going to cry again and no one said anything when a few tears trekked down her face. The tiny girl squirmed, her eyes opening to stare at her mother, the orbs as dark as Asuma's. In response to her movement, her brother whimpered, crimson eyes watering before his mother shifted him closer to her chest.

"What will you name them?" Shikamaru asked quietly as Kakashi and Iruka took their leave. Kurenai shook her head after a moment.

"I don't know yet, but when I decide, I'll tell you first." She promised. Shikamaru seemed satisfied with that, set his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, saying his farewell before he left her alone with her children.

In truth, Kurenai had already decided on names for her children. She and Asuma had settled on names long ago, the moment they found out she was pregnant, before he had gone on the mission that had cost him his life. She settled back to let the babies have their dinner and kissed each of their foreheads. The little girl, Asumako, burped softly and squirmed again, while her brother, Asagi, just gave a little sigh and curled up to sleep again. Kurenai smiled and settled back against her pillows, eyes closing.

"Asuma, you'll be so proud of them," she whispered. "They'll never forget you. I love you."

Warmth flooded through her as she fell asleep, knowing Asuma was watching over her and their children. With that thought, she fell asleep holding her children, warm and safe.


	8. Chapter 8

To Masochism

When he learned he was going to be partnered with a money-hoarding Jew (not that he had anything against Jews) Hidan had been pissed. He hadn't even met this Kakuzu and he was already searching out Pein to tell him he didn't need a partner. Ironically, his partner had had the same idea and for a while, they'd stared at each other. Kakuzu, to Hidan, was ugly, head hidden beneath a hood and his hitai-ate and eyes a nasty black and solid white; even the lower half of his face was covered by a strap set into the hood, no doubt hiding some sort of deformity. Hidan had curled his lip in disgust and had promptly been punched in the face.

Perhaps they'd get along after all.

Most of their missions – besides finding, beat the shit out of, and capturing their biju – were money based, because Kakuzu said so. And if Hidan wanted to feed his need for pain, he did what he was told to do. He did it grudgingly, but he did it. Their relationship was a constant shifting power, a trading of submissive and dominate, and when Hidan pissed Kakuzu off enough, Kakuzu took him with the brutality of rape, though Hidan was ever willing.

Hidan could still remember the day their relationship changed from something living in hate to something thriving on mutual care for one another. Neither of them would admit to loving each other, both being way too proud, but they showed each other they cared, somehow. Hidan, on that day, had walked in on Kakuzu and had gotten a very good look at his body. Limbs were attached with red threads, skin pale and scared and beautiful. Dark hair brushed his shoulders and Hidan realized the face he stared at every day was an elaborate mask to hide Kakuzu's true face. He was beautiful, sinfully so, and when Kakuzu turned to face his partner Hidan saw his eyes and was floored. The orbs were dark, depthless and ageless, ancient and haunted, telling Hidan Kakuzu had seen – and done – things that had hurt him profoundly enough for him to need to hide his face. He didn't move, so Hidan seized the opportunity and tackled Kakuzu onto the bed.

He knew Kakuzu would kill him later, but with Kakuzu startled, Hidan took what was offered. He fucked Kakuzu - because there was really no other word to describe what he was doing to the elder man – until he finally got a cry and felt hot come against his hand, filling his partner with his own passion.

Kakuzu promptly kicked his ass and returned the favour.

Theirs wasn't a romantic love life. They yelled and argued, cursed and fought, and everything ended with the two in bed, fucking. The only time the pair were truly intimate, when their true feelings came out was when Kakuzu had to sew Hidan together again. The stitches were always gentle, careful and precise and Hidan just enjoyed the sensation. Now he wouldn't get to feel that again. Hidan took his time, clawing at the rubble that covered him, easing his way out of the hole. Oh, he hoped Kakuzu was alive. The man held so many secrets after all. Five hearts extra was common information, but he had a sixth incase he really did die. After all, why would you resign yourself to death when you've achieved a way to immortality? Hidan gave a heavy sigh and continued to work. Kakuzu would probably be unconscious. He doubted those damned Konoha nin would've destroyed the body, out more for revenge than assassination. Hidan's hand broke through the dirt and he dug furiously, pushing through and taking a deep breath of air. He crawled out and shook himself, turning to spit on the hole. He had a partner to find.

He was amazed when he found Kakuzu, barely rotted but most decidedly dead. Hidan knelt to pull off the concealing mask Kakuzu used to cover his real face, tossed it aside, and bent to breathe life into his partner. A steady beat slowly began in Kakuzu's chest, but Hidan didn't wait around for the elder man to wake, hauling him up and carrying him off, stripping them of their Akatsuki cloaks and hitai-ates.

It would be much easier to pretend to be mauled travelers than rogue ninja. Besides, not a soul other than Hidan knew Kakuzu's real face, so everything would work out. So Hidan hoped. After all, Akatsuki no doubt had listed them as dead and probably so had the Villages, so they were pretty much home free. They shuffled into a small village close to dusk and Hidan managed to find an abandoned house and slipped in, setting Kakuzu down on an old mattress left behind. Hidan watched the man sleep and stretched out beside him, sighing.

"Wake up, Kakuzu," Hidan whispered as he closed his eyes, "I'm getting bored."

The other man twitched hard as though he'd heard Hidan and the blonde smiled. It wouldn't be too long now.

Hidan decided he'd start with a bite. That would piss Kakuzu off.

Hidan grinned and relaxed, deciding to be patient. They had all the time in the world after all.


End file.
